


Night Shift

by stationdragon



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Established Relationship, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Galra Keith (Voltron), M/M, Movie Night, SHEITH - Freeform, Team Voltron Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-02
Updated: 2017-05-02
Packaged: 2018-10-26 18:15:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10792059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stationdragon/pseuds/stationdragon
Summary: It's movie night at the castle, so naturally the paladins do pretty much everything except watch a movie.





	Night Shift

At some point Pidge gets her hands on a huge database of Earth films and downloads them to the Castle’s library. Maybe she’d hacked into the library of Congress, or the Netflix database, or Steven Spielberg’s private film collection. Nobody really knows, but they’re a welcome addition to the existing catalogue of Altean films, since even with Coran’s colourful commentary they’re nearly as inexplicable to the paladins as assembling Ikea furniture.

The first few times they invite Coran and Allura to join them on movie night, but it soon becomes apparent that the Altean’s lack the cultural knowledge to appreciate most Earth films. Some themes are universal of course, but the nuances, the history, the pop-culture references get lost in translation. So movie night becomes about the five of them spending time together, with Allura’s and Coran’s blessing since the Altean’s consider it an opportunity for the team to bond. 

Friday nights, or what Pidge has determined are Friday nights back home, they all gather together on the big round sunken throwback to the seventies couch in the common room. The only things missing, according to Lance, are lava lamps and a bong. Lance arrives in a blue robe and puffy cat slippers with at least two tremendous pillows in tow to make a nest for himself at one curved end. Keith and Shiro sit together in the middle, Shiro’s flesh and blood arm wrapped tenderly around Keith’s whippet-thin frame, wearing checked flannel pyjama bottoms and t-shirts and nothing at all on their bare feet. Pidge flops down next to them, her head occasionally perched on Keith’s lap. Sometimes he scratches her head without thinking about it, like a doting brother. She wears sea green, or sometimes powder blue, pyjama bottoms covered in tiny black and white teddybears and a white long-sleeved henley shirt to keep out the chill. Finally Hunk slouches against the other curved end of the horseshoe shaped couch dressed in mustard-yellow silk pyjamas. He usually puts himself in charge of catering, and somehow the castle always knows to provide a coffee table for the occasion.

“What is that?” Keith asks suspiciously, eyeing the giant wooden bowl Hunk places on the polished white coffee table conveniently rising out of the floor.

“Popcorn,” Hunk says mildly, “what’s it look like?”

“Not… popcorn,” Keith says, one eyebrow quirking skeptically. Shiro leans forward to survey the contents of the bowl with a critical eye, though he doesn’t comment.

“Well, I can’t exactly run to the space mall for Jiffy Pop okay,” Hunk says, the corners of his mouth turning down in an annoyed frown.

To Keith, it looks like a bowl of small moss covered pebbles. “It’s green,” he says flatly. 

Hunk’s frown deepens as he shakes a small silver cylinder over the bowl’s contents filled with what Keith assumes is salt. “Just eat it,” he says. He looks up with a heavy sigh at the dubious look on Keith’s face. “Lance,” he says, pushing the bowl a bit further down the table.

Lance lifts his head from the oversized pillow he’s lounging on and unfolds one lanky arm towards the sliding bowl. He plucks one small pebble out of it and immediately pops it into his mouth. Not that anyone meant for it to happen exactly, but somewhere along the line Lance became the official taste tester of the group, mainly because he’ll try anything once. Keith kind of admires how fearless he is about it actually, though he’ll never admit it to Lance. 

“Hmm, kinda tastes like burnt sunflower seeds,” Lance says, the pebble disappearing with a satisfying crunch. “I like it.” He looks around. “So whose turn is it? Don’t say Keith.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Keith demands.

“It means I’m tired of watching cheesy monster movies about alien crabs giant tarantulas and killer shrews taking over the Earth,” Lance says, theatrically rolling his eyes.

“Most of those were just attacks not actual takeovers,” Keith mutters sullenly.

“You do realise there were two entire shows built around making fun of movies like that, don’t you?” Lance says, eyeing him over the downy pillow clutched to his chest.

“Well, what did you wanna watch?” Keith asks. “The Notebook, again?”

“At least the Notebook makes you feel something other than boredom,” Lance says mildly.

“Technically speaking, nauseous isn’t a feeling,” Keith says tartly.

Lance’s eyes narrow slightly. “Okay, you seriously need to see the Wizard, because you have no heart,” he says.

“It’s the same book Lance,” Keith insists, “he just keeps writing the same book over and over and over again.”

“Yes, the book of love, which you wouldn’t know anything about because there’s a gearbox where your heart should be.”

“And there’s a walnut where your brain should be.”

Lance glowers at him. “Shiro how can you possibly be with someone this emotionally stunted?”

“Hey!” Keith cries, springing forward in his seat, every muscle tensed like a tautly stretched rubber band.

Shiro lays his flesh and blood hand flat against Keith’s chest, immediately draining the tension from his body. “I’ve got no complaints,” he says softly, his dark eyes locking with Keith’s as he smiles at him. Keith smiles back then sticks out his tongue and blows a loud raspberry at Lance.

“Oh real mature,” Lance says flatly.

“Says the guy who farts the alphabet every morning at breakfast.”

“It’s the theme song to Raiders of the Lost Ark, you robot,” Lance sneers.

Keith’s nose wrinkles in distaste. “Just… ewww,” he says.

“Pidge why don’t _you_ pick something,” Shiro says brightly, in an obvious attempt to steer the conversation away from farts.

“NO!” Lance protests. “The last time Pidge picked, we wound up watching thirteen hours of Fullmetal Alchemist.”

“Hey! Fullmetal Alchemist is awesome!” Pidge cries, looking up from the tablet in her hand for the first time since they all sat down.

“Yeah yeah, the entire story hinges on the fact that society decided to invent fully functional mechanical limbs instead of television, but whatever,” Lance says flatly.

“You say that as if it’s somehow unbelievable,” Shiro deadpans, holding up his artificial hand and pointing to it with his flesh and blood one.

“Okay, but can you do alchemy with it?” Pidge wryly asks him. Shiro extends his mechanical fingers, his hand glowing violet. “Showoff,” Pidge murmurs.

“My point is, we haven’t exactly got the time to devote to the entire first season of Attack on Titan,” Lance says flatly.

“You have something against giant zombie toddlers?” Pidge asks mildly.

“Ooh, I wanna see the giant zombie toddlers!” Keith says, suddenly perking up.

“NO!” Lance snaps. “And stop saying giant zombie toddlers!” He eyes Keith critically. “What is it with you and zombies anyway? Did you do battle with them in a past life, or something?

Keith just shrugs and murmurs a vague _I dunno_ sound.

“Keith would totally kick zombie ass,” Pidge says gleefully.

“Thank you, Pidge.”

“Arms of Voltron,” they say together, bumping fists then quickly spreading their fingers apart while making an explosive sound effect.

“Whoah, whoah, hold up,” Lance scoffs. “When did you two come up with your own catchphrase? And why don’t we have one,” he says, glancing at Hunk. “Huh, Hunk? Buddy? Legs of Voltron: we hold everyone else…up?” 

Hunk pops a crunchy moss pebble into his mouth and just stares at him as if he’s lost his mind. 

“I’ll work on it,” Lance says flatly. “Seriously though, _that_ you get, but somehow I say Vol and you say tron is beyond you?”

“Ohhhhh I say Vol and you say tron…” Keith says, feigning sudden awareness. “Yeah, that makes way more sense than Vol…Voltron.”

“Of course it does, you giant id…oh I see how it is,” Lance grumbles when he sees the wan smile tugging at the corners of Keith’s mouth, “you’ve just been messing with me this entire time, haven’t you.”

“Define messing with.”

“Did you know about this?” He asks Hunk.

“What, that it’s stupid easy to mess with you,” Hunk says absently, “yeah, I cracked that code a long time ago.”

Everyone cracks up and Lance pulls a face. “Fuck all of you,” he mutters, gripping the pillow more tightly to his chest.

“If you’re that set on zombies we could always watch Night of the Living Dead,” Hunk says, still chuckling.

“I’m in as long as it’s the original 1968 version,” Keith says brightly.

“What a surprise,” Lance says, rolling his eyes. “Keith wants to watch the boring old black and white version of something.”

“Hey, that movie had tons of atmosphere,” Keith says sharply.

“Yeah you know what else has tons of atmosphere Keith? Space! Doesn’t mean I wanna stare at _that_ for two hours either,” Lance grumbles.

“Space doesn’t have an atmosphere, you doofus,” Hunk mutters, wrinkling his nose. “That’s why it’s called Space.”

“It was a metaphor Hunk!”

“Yeah, that’s Lance for ya,” Pidge says, laying her head down in Keith’s lap, “never metaphor he didn’t like.”

“Hilarious,” Lance says, chucking a crunchy moss pebble at her. It bounces off her forehead.

“Ow! Quit it!” she yelps. “Those things are hard!” She pats around the couch cushions and recovers the moss pebble. She eyes it skeptically for a moment before taking a tentative bite, “hmmm, and tasty.”

“We could watch Chef again,” Hunk suggests.

Pidge tilts her head slightly to fix him with an upside down stare. “While the rest of us watch you and Lance cry? Pass.”

“Hey! Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve had my mom’s homemade tostones cubanos caseros?” Lance longingly asks. “Man I miss real food, no offence Hunk.”

“You think I don’t?” Hunk demands. “If I was chocolate, I swear I’d eat _myself_ right now.”

“Dude,” Keith exclaims, recoiling slightly, “why would you even put that out there?”

“You are one messed up piece of candy, you know that?” Pidge says flatly. Hunk just shrugs.

“I miss meat,” Lance mumbles with an explosive sigh.

"Well, unless we stumble across a space supermarket, we’re all remaining vegetarians for the foreseeable future,” Hunk says, sounding just as dissatisfied with the situation as Lance does.

“I mean, there’s always Kaltenecker,” Keith says softly.

“You keep your Galra mitts off my Kaltenecker Keith!” Lance cries, shooting daggers at Keith over his pillow. “What it is it with you constantly trying to steal my stuff anyway? ”

“I wasn’t…” Keith stammers, “I was just pointing out… Look I was already a vegetarian before we even got here okay!”

“Tell it to somebody who cares, you hippie!” Lance snaps.

“Can we just skip to Star Wars already,” Pidge groans plaintively.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Lance demands.

“It means we _always_ do this,” Pidge says. “We always argue over what we’re gonna watch for two hours, then we put on Star Wars and fall asleep ten minutes after it starts.”

“Nope, nu-uh,” Lance says shaking his head, “not gonna happen this time. Shiro, you pick something.”

Shiro exchanges a glance with Pidge who just shrugs and hands him the tablet. “Okay,” he says, scrolling through the screen as he slouches further into his seat, his flesh and blood arm wrapped around Keith who shifts slightly to get a better view of the tablet. Shiro stops scrolling, smiling slightly. He glances at Keith. Keith frowns and shakes his head almost imperceptibly.

“Hey, I saw that!” Lance cries.

“Saw what?” Shiro innocently asks.

Lance pulls a face. “No colluding!” He snaps. “Seriously things were so much simpler when you two were pretending not to be together and we were pretending that we didn’t know you were pretending not to be together”

“Human sexuality is rich, complicated and hard to analyse Lance,” Shiro says mildly, without looking up from the tablet in his hand, “like Battletoads.”

“Tell me about it,” Lance says, rolling his eyes.

“I was trying to do you a favour Lance,” Keith says, “unless you _wanna_ watch Godzilla for the umpteenth time that is.”

“I’m with Pidge, let’s just skip to Star Wars,” Hunk whines.

“Oh come on, who doesn’t love Godzilla?” Shiro asks. Almost immediately everyone raises their hand, except Keith who closes his eyes and slowly shakes his head wearing a somewhat pained expression. Shiro glances his way and Keith presses his lips together in an insincere smile. “Barbarians,” Shiro mutters, his eyes returning to the tablet.

“We could’ve been two hours into Attack on Titan by now, is all I’m saying,” Pidge says flatly.

“No! No zombies,” Lance says firmly. “We’re not watching anything with zombies.”

“You and me Pidge,” Keith says softly, smiling down at her, “next day off we’ll watch it together.”

“Really?”

“Just tell me one thing,” he says, his smile widening into a grin, “how gross is it?”

“Oh it’s really gross,” Pidge says gleefully.

“Cool, I’m in.”

“There is something seriously wrong with you two,” Hunk says squinting doubtfully at them.

“Oh! You want a piece of me Candy-Man!” Pidge cries, springing upright in her seat.

“Geez, stand down Hulk,” Hunk says, throwing his hands up in surrender. “Boy the arms of Voltron really stick together don’t they?”

“Yeah we do,” Keith says defensively, “without us you’d be…” he breaks off, a suitable word eluding him.

“Armless?” Pidge supplies helpfully.

“Yes, thank you Pidge.”

“Well without Hunk and me, you two wouldn’t have a leg to stand on,” Lance declares smugly.

“Ooh nice one,” Hunk says.

“Thank you.”

All eyes fall on Shiro. “Don’t drag me into this,” he says without looking up.

“Well, this has gotta be one of the stupidest arguments we’ve ever had,” Pidge says, laying back down with a barely stifled yawn.

“I don’t know,” Hunk says thoughtfully. “I personally think we sunk to an all time low when we were arguing over what colour Keith’s hair really is.”

“Wait what?” Shiro looks up with a start, his eyes flickering to Keith’s head. “Isn’t it black?”

“You’d think so, but no,” Hunk says. “In LED light, it appears to be dark purple.”

“It’s blue in incandescent light,” Lance adds.

“And in fluorescent light,” Pidge supplies cheerfully, “magenta!”

“And you know all this because?”

“I gave Pidge a sample,” Keith says quietly, “in the name of scientific research.”

Shiro blinks. “You performed scientific experiments on Keith’s hair?” he asks incredulously.

“Only visual ones,” Pidge says a bit defensively, “it’s not like I tried to clone him or anything.”

“Oh my God,” Lance says with a shudder, “what a terrifying thought.” He extends an arm towards Hunk. “Look, I’ve got goosebumps.” Hunk rolls his eyes and slouches further into his seat.

“And you were ok with this?” Shiro asks, his eyes returning to Keith’s face.

“I mean, there’s this entire part of me that I know nothing about,” Keith says softly. “I guess I’m just as curious to find out the truth about myself as everyone else is.”

“I…” Shiro hesitates, “yeah, of course you are,” he says finally, his tone resigned. “I won’t try to discourage you, but there’s a chance you might not like everything you find,” he says, impulsively caressing Keith’s cheek with his flesh and blood hand. “I just don’t wanna see you get hurt.”

Keith covers Shiro’s hand with his. “Shiro, I love you,” he says. “I want to write a poem every time I look into your eyes. That’s how full of shit you make me feel, but this is something I need to do, so whatever happens you’re just gonna have to trust that I can handle it.”

“I do trust you,” Shiro says, smiling wanly. “Just… keep me in the loop okay? Just because I know you can handle anything doesn’t mean you need to do it alone.”

“No danger of that as long as we’re around,” Pidge says resolutely.

“Yeah, I mean, we’ll always have Keith’s back,” Hunk chimes in.

“He may be a weird socially awkward space-cat who plays with knives, but he’s still one of us,” Lance agrees wryly.

Keith scowls at him. “Gee, thanks,” he mutters.

“Hey no problem,” Lance says cheerfully, “if you ever need a slightly distracted, unsympathetic friend, I’m here for you buddy. Besides, I can’t wait to see what colour your hair turns under black light, personally I’m betting on neon pink.”

“Well, as long as you’ve got a hobby,” Keith deadpans.

“Hey maybe I can get Coran to install black lights on the bridge.”

“Coran and Allura have enough to worry about without you turning the bridge into a mosh pit Lance,” Shiro says mildly.

“But it would go so perfectly with the alternative rock music soundtrack you just know is playing inside Keith’s head right now,” Lance complains. 

“Better that than Circus music,” Keith mutters, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, whatever 2-D.”

“You know, Jean-Paul Sartre said hell was an eternity spent in a room with your friends” Pidge groans, glancing at Hunk. “I say fuck Sartre, fuck him right in his stupid ass!”

“What?” Hunk starts, making a show of looking around the room as if he’s forgotten for a moment where he is. “Oh sorry I keep having the same nightmare every time I wake up.”

“All right, dial it back drama queens,” Shiro says flatly. “I know what we’re watching.”

“Godzilla versus…” Keith ventures.

“Not a Godzilla movie wiseass,” Shiro says, glancing at Keith from the corner of his eye. He hands the tablet back to Pidge. “Pidge queue that up.”

“Oh!” Pidge says, as if pleasantly surprised by Shiro’s selection. “Okay.” She taps the screen and a large view screen shimmers into existence in front of them. The credits begin to roll then settle on the image of a lonely red planet.

“Oh, The Martian,” Lance says thoughtfully, “huh, I’ve never seen that.”

“The book was really good,” Keith says, stifling a yawn.

“Were there alien space zombies in it?” Pidge asks.

“No.”

“Meh, how good could it be then?”

“Not _everything_ is better with zombies, you know,” Lance grumbles.

“Name one thing that isn’t,” Pidge says.

Lance thinks for a moment. “Grilled cheese,” he says finally.

“There’s nothing worse than a smartass who pretends not to understand hyperbole,” Pidge says, scowling at him. Lance just grins and grabs a fistful of crunchy moss pebbles, popping one into his mouth, which he chews with gusto.

“I’d try to stay on Pidge’s good side if I were you Lance,” Hunk warns him, shaking his head.

“Oh, why’s that?” Lance asks, still grinning.

“Because, I’m pretty sure she’s just one lab accident away from creating her own zombie virus and you don’t wanna end up as patient zero,” Hunk says a little apprehensively.

“Heh,” Pidge chuckles darkly.

Keith yawns and closes his eyes, leaning back against Shiro’s chest. Lance sits up suddenly and pops him in the face with the pillow clutched to his chest.

“Hey!” Keith flinches, his eyes flying open. “What the hell Lance!”

“What are you a hundred?” Lance snaps. “Wake up!”

“Lance!” Shiro growls, “Leave him alone!” Shiro’s eyes are closed as well. He doesn’t even bother opening them before scolding Lance. Keith glares at Lance as he settles back against Shiro’s chest, slowly and deliberately closing his eyes as if daring Lance to disturb him again. Lance just sighs and drops his head onto one pillow while clasping the other one tightly to his chest. He turns his head. Matt Damon’s giant head fills the virtual view screen and Lance yawns hugely.

Next thing he knows, someone’s shaking him. “Lance. Hey Lance, wake up.” Lance opens his eyes to find Keith standing over him. 

“Shit,” he murmurs groggily, “did I fall asleep?”

The movie is over. The corridor lights have dimmed and he can see Shiro carrying a slumbering Pidge to her room over Keith’s shoulder. Hunk is a bit further down the hall, already entering his own room. “Yeah,” Keith says softly, “about five-minutes after everyone else did.”

Lance sits up and scrubs the sleep from his face. “Well, goodnight,” Keith says, turning to follow Shiro back to their room.

“Hey Keith,” Lance calls after him and Keith stops mid-stride, turning back to regard him with weary eyes. “I’m… sorry for giving you such a hard time.”

Keith’s eyebrows raise slightly in surprise. He returns to the couch and takes a seat next to Lance. “You really miss your family huh,” it isn’t a question.

“I… yeah,” Lance admits, “don’t you?”

Keith doesn’t answer. “Are you guys close?” he asks instead.

“Yeah, we’re close,” Lance says softly, “I mean, don’t get me wrong we fight, like all the time, but there’s really nothing I wouldn’t do for them.”

“Sounds vaguely familiar,” Keith says wryly, and Lance can’t help but smile.

“What about you?” he asks, “Are you close with your family?”

Keith just stares at him for a moment with those unlikely eyes of his. “You’re my family, Lance,” he says finally. “all of you are. You’re the only real family I’ve ever had.”

For once, Lance finds himself at a loss for words. Keith presses his lips together in a wan half-smile and stands up. “We should probably get some sleep,” he says. “Goodnight Lance.”

“Night,” Lance murmurs automatically, watching Keith as he turns to leave. He scratches his head, then suddenly springs to his feet and chases after him. “You know,” he calls, and Keith slows his pace slightly in the corridor ahead of him. “One of these days, we’re gonna make it back home, and then you’ll get to meet the _rest_ of our family.”

Keith pauses mid-stride and turns his head to regard Lance. “Yeah,” he says softly, “I’d like that.”

END

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on [tumblr](https://stationdragon.tumblr.com/) Ask box is always open.


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